


Sliver

by astraplain



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something in Johnny's eye. A figure skating fairy tale very lightly based on The Snow Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sliver

The Winter King's treasury contained a magic mirror that could turn whole villages and the hearts of every living creature in them to ice. It had been used only once, and the results were so horrifying that the mirror had been hidden away, never to be used again.

Centuries passed and the mirror was remembered only in tales told to children. When the mirror was accidentally broken, the shards were swept up and thrown away without concern.

But a few tiny slivers of the mirror had fallen onto a carpet and when a servant shook out the carpet, the slivers were scattered onto the wind.  
+++++

"We have to get back," Stéphane insisted, reaching for Johnny's hand. Johnny laughed and skipped away, daring Stéphane to catch him. They collided and Johnny wrapped his arms around Stéphane, spinning them both in a lazy circle. He threw his head back, knowing Stéphane wouldn't let him fall.

"We'll be stranded," Stéphane cautioned. "The bus will leave without us."

"It won't… Ow!" Johnny shifted so quickly, pressing his face against Stéphane's chest that the other man barely had time to react.

"What's wrong?" He tried to ease Johnny back so he could see, but Johnny clung tighter, his body gone tense.

"Something in my eye," he whimpered. "Hurts."

"Let me see," Stéphane insisted, tilting Johnny's head so he could look into his affected eye. The right eye was a bit watery, but the left eye was overflowing with tears and had already gone red.

"I don't see anything," Stéphane said after a moment of examining the eye. "Let's get back to the bus. Perhaps you can rinse out your eyes." He held Johnny close at his side and walked him back towards the waiting bus. He could feel Johnny shivering although it wasn't cold.  
+++++

They were in the back of the bus with Johnny curled up on his side, his head resting in Stéphane's lap. Stéphane was stroking his hair and humming softly while Johnny dozed fitfully. His skin was cooler than usual and he seemed pale, but that could have been the poor lighting.

It was late afternoon; most of the other skaters were resting or sleeping but Stéphane's attention was on his beloved. He'd been acting strangely since their stop earlier in the day and Stéphane was worried. He'd known Johnny for more than 10 years – almost half their lives – and he knew Johnny hated inconveniencing people. If he was ill, he'd deny it as long as possible. Stéphane would have to be extra vigilant until Johnny was feeling better.

Drawing a blanket over them both, Stéphane leaned back, his hands resting securely on Johnny. He slipped off to sleep easily, missing the way that Johnny's hands tightened desperately in the fabric of the blanket.  
+++++

Rehearsals were running late the next day, and there was a small crisis when Stéphane's costume needed repair so he was kept busy and away from Johnny for most of the afternoon. When it was time for a break and something to eat, he finally caught up to him.

"You look half-frozen," Stéphane said with concern as Johnny clutched at his cup of hot tea. "Come. Let me hold you." He opened his coat and wrapped it around Johnny as they walked to the bus. Thankfully they were staying in a hotel close to the arena – one with a nice restaurant.

They ended up taking over one of the restaurant's private rooms and conversation flowed easily. Stéphane was glad to feel Johnny relaxing, and allowed himself to relax as well. They'd need to be rested for the show tomorrow evening.

The meal was over and a group of them ended up in Johnny and Stéphane's room intending to watch a movie. Unfortunately, there was nothing on that anyone wanted to watch and after some half-hearted suggestions, Surya suggested that they take turns telling stories.

Another round of discussion began with people trying to decide what kinds of stories were appropriate. Finally Surya let out an ear splitting whistle and settled in with a tale she'd been told as a child.

"The snow queen," she said," wasn't really a queen at all." And she spun a tale of a despairing king and a mirror that could freeze a man's heart yet leave him alive but unable to love. She told of the despair he felt as the ice took him, causing him to run away and of the dedication of his lover as she followed after him through ice-covered wastelands, finally winning him back. When the story was done, Johnny was shivering in Stéphane's arms and Stéphane felt a terrible sense of dread.

Later, when the group was leaving, Stéphane asked Surya to remain a moment. Johnny had fallen asleep bundled under most of the blankets in the room and Stéphane didn't want to let him out of his sight.

"The story you told about the snow queen?"

"A family tradition, nothing more" she replied, but there was something sad in her eyes. "Let him rest, Stéphane. He'll be better in the morning." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek before slipping away, leaving Stéphane staring fretfully at his sleeping lover.  
+++++

Stéphane's dreams were of full of glittering ice sculptures – carvings so beautiful – so real - that it made him desperate to reach out and touch. He didn't quite dare it, shoving his gloved hands deep in the pocket of his coat as he continued his journey. There was a castle in the distance with a pond in front. Poised on the surface was a swan, head back and wings outspread as if it could fly away at any moment.

This time Stéphane did touch, removing his glove before making contact with the swan's beautiful face. Surely it was a trick of the light that gave the eyes a greenish tint. Stéphane drew his hand back slowly, and watched as a single drop of water slipped down the swan's face.

Stéphane tried to catch it, but it turned to ice and cut him, drawing blood. He reached out to the swan with his injured hand, blood staining the swan's face. The bird shuddered violently, knocking Stéphane backwards as ice transformed to feathers. He took flight with a cry that sounded like victory and never looked back.

When he woke, Stéphane's pillow was wet with tears and Johnny was gone.  
+++++

Johnny was skating without music. Stéphane recognized parts of The Swan, but there were new moves, new steps that sent Johnny across the ice faster and lighter than he'd been in a while. He lifted his arms up like wings and his skates barely made a sound on the ice. He was so pale in the dim light that he looked translucent.

Stéphane pulled on his skates, barely taking time to adjust them before stepping onto the ice. There was tightness in his chest and a sense of urgency that he didn't question.

Johnny smiled at him absently, and continued his movements, drifting farther away even as he reached the far end of the rink and turned back.

Stéphane caught him and they nearly fell, but somehow they held each other up.

"Don't leave me," Stéphane begged, but Johnny only smiled at him blankly before patting his arm and slipping away.

Desperate, Stéphane skated after him, building up speed. He passed Johnny and flung himself up into a desperate jump – one that always brought him crashing to the ice. This time was no exception, and he fell hard enough that his vision blurred. He heard someone cry out, but wasn't sure if it was him or Johnny.

When he opened his eyes again, all he could see was green. He reached up to touch Johnny's face and frowned when his hand was caught before making contact.

"You're bleeding," Johnny said in a choked voice. Before Stéphane could protest, Johnny put the injured finger into his mouth and licked away the blood. They both shuddered at the contact.

They helped each other up awkwardly and just held each other, sharing warmth until they finally separated.

"The others will be here soon," Johnny commented regretfully. "But I…" he couldn't say it, no matter how much he wanted to, but Stéphane understood.

"Skate with me?" he offered, setting aside his aches and pains. He wasn't sure if anything he'd done had helped, but he felt hopeful.

"I'd like that," Johnny assured him, leaning in to give him the softest kiss before taking up his starting position for their pairs routine.

They did two full run-throughs, and their faces were flushed when they started again. This time, when they reached the first throw, Stéphane tightened his grip and held Johnny close, spinning them around until Johnny was holding on tightly and laughing.

Stéphane brushed his lips against Johnny's, savoring the warmth.

They were still kissing when the others arrived.

Neither one noticed when Surya skated past, leaning down to pick up a tiny sliver of glass off the ice.

::end::


End file.
